Helping Hand
by CreatorsOfWorlds
Summary: The mathematics of charity are never so difficult as when you give to those who do nothing but take. Pre-Founding era.


_A/N - Gods, but I love the dynamics between these two. This is actually a rehaul of a oneshot I wrote before I'd pinned down Izuna's character the way I wanted. So, it's hardly the broader, sweeping view of the situation you might have gotten before - it's more a sharply focused little look at the interaction between Tobirama and Izuna, something that was skipped over in just a few paragraphs in the original._

_I hope you enjoy it._

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_Disclaimer__ - I don't own them. Sadly._

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_**Helping hand**_

_**o**_

_Charity sees the need, not the cause._

_- German Proverb_

**_o_**

It has been the coldest, bitterest, longest winter that anyone now alive can remember, and snow is piled thick on the ground through the bare-boned forest, driven to great heaps against the ice-sheathed tree trunks and boulders. On the lee side of one of those boulders, a boy with hair white as the snow around him has backed up a thin, black-haired boy against the rock and is arguing with him furiously.

Senju and Uchiha are negotiating, and as usual, bladed weapons and plenty of death threats are involved.

"Why should I trust a word you say?" Tobirama snaps, his hand tightening on the hilt of his knife. "This could be some trap you set up with that damn brother of yours. Maybe he sent you here to tell me this."

Izuna remains remarkably calm and still, considering the fact that Tobirama's knife is pressing close against his throat. "Oniisan has not been conscious for the past three days," he says, "but if he had known what I intended to do, he would have forbidden it." A mirthless little smile twists his mouth. "Madara doesn't believe in accepting charity."

Tobirama mutters in disgust and jerks the knife away. Izuna standing there and shivering in the cold, dark eyes big in his thin face, hardly seems enough of a threat to warrant it. And he's never enjoyed feeling like a bully. "And you do?"

Izuna shrugs a little, wavers and puts his hand against the great boulder behind him for support. His face is pale. "I think, Tobi - that we must do what we must to survive. Pride can be regained. Life is more difficult. I am sure you understand…"

"Madara -" Tobirama begins.

"I have not lived and served my Clan this long," Izuna says shortly, "without realizing that sometimes my beloved older brother can be a fool." He coughs painfully. "Especially in matters that concern _your _older brother. But as long as he is ill it is I who must make the decisions for us, and I'll be damned if I allow my Clan," he looks wearily and with a surprising lack of vindictiveness at Tobirama's steady feet and upright body, "to starve within the sight of plenty. I thought it was time to put that famed Senju sense of compassion to the test."

Tobirama bites his lip and fiercely pushes down the impulse that tells him to steady the other boy before he falls, despite his grip on the stone. "Hashirama would believe you," he says, "because all he wants to do is to help other people. Sometimes I have to protect him - and our Clan - from his own nature. I am sure _you_ understand. And you still have not told me what has brought you to such straits…"

Izuna sighs, and wavers badly, catching himself against the rock again with a soft curse. "It seems that your good friends the Ryosei San managed to locate many of our storehouses, Tobi, and thought to make us pay for ten years ago. The Akimichi must have argued the other two out of the use of poison - but they had no compunctions about stealing our supplies and leaving us to starve."

Tobirama frowns at him, at the obvious force of will he's exerting to remain upright. It's unlike the Uchiha to show so much weakness, just as it's unlike them to ask for help, from anyone. "Not just Madara," he says suddenly. "Your Clan will be angry with you for coming here, won't they?"

"If some members of my Clan are proud as samurai, and would rather starve to death than risk their honor by asking their former enemies for help, those are not my beliefs, and I - I will not allow them to die for them!" Izuna says furiously. "I have been a shinobi for seventeen years, I was that when I lay in my mother's womb before birth, and she whispered to me that even though she had little food to strengthen herself and me with, I was to endure." With an effort, it seems, he calms himself. "I will not allow them to die," he says again.

"Even if Madara knows nothing of this," Tobirama points out, forcing himself to consider every possibility, "It is still possible that this is some scheme of your own. I would not put it past you -"

" - To have starved myself for days in order to achieve a believable state of malnutrition?" Izuna finishes dryly. "You know me far too well, Tobi."

"Then we seem to be at an impasse," Tobirama says, his voice thick with frustration.

"And that is something which I cannot afford," Izuna says. "Most of us are too weak to move, now. The children are dying."

Tobirama wants to move, wants to speak, and yet bites his tongue instead, hating himself for doubting and knowing that he can't do anything else. Hashirama's teachings are warring with the caution honed by years of experience, that tells him _don't take the chance, no matter how much you want to believe, no matter how much it hurts..._

"Oniisan is proud," Izuna whispers. "And he would never forgive me. But I will do what I must to ensure the survival of our Clan."

Tobirama takes a step back, his eyes warily assessing the situation

And Izuna drops to his knees in the dirty, churned-up snow and bends forward in a deep, humble bow. "Please," he says. "Please, I am not making demands. I am not asking you. I am _begging _you. My Clan will die if you do nothing. If you do not believe me, then kill me here - do not make me return to them with empty hands."

Tobirama can see the tears clinging to Izuna's thick lashes.

He knows that the boy kneeling before him would say anything, do anything, if it was to the advantage of his elder brother and Clan.

After a moment he reaches out with a ragged sigh and grips the back of Izuna's tunic, jerking him to his feet. "If my advice leads my brother wrong," he says shortly, "I'll kill you. Come on, I'll take you to see him."

Izuna steps forward unsteadily, and Tobirama jerks his head a little. "I'll still be guiding us, but I want you in front," he says. "You'll forgive me if I don't feel like turning my back to you."

And against all the odds, a small, real smile wavers over Izuna's face and then vanishes. "They say that we Uchiha are the ones who hold a grudge," he murmurs.

Tobirama keeps a steady hand on the other boy as he steers him forward, as a precaution against treachery and also out of a faint worry that Izuna might actually fall if not for the support. He can feel the fragile, delicate bones of his shoulder so easily. "It was an _arrow_. In my back. After I'd let you go because I thought you were -"

"Blind and helpless," Izuna finishes helpfully.

"That's not the kind of thing you forget in a hurry."

The faint, hoarse sound of laughter in the back of Izuna's throat. "Most people - would have tried to take advantage of that, and not walked away. That's what I find so intriguing about you, Tobi. How you can be so underhanded and so honest at the same time…"

Tobirama gives up on the arms-length thing when Izuna stumbles for the third time, and closes the gap between them, slipping an arm around his shoulders. The Uchiha boy stiffens at first, a carving made of ice, and Tobirama snaps, "Don't be so godsdamned proud, I'll let go before we get back to camp if you want," and after a minute he relaxes and actually leans a fraction of his weight on Tobirama's shoulder.

"And you're not even a Senju by birth," he finishes in a tone of faint wonder mixed with accusation.

"Well, according to my brother," Tobirama says, grunting as he kicks aside a branch, "being a Senju has nothing to do with whether you were born one or not. It has to do with honoring your ancestors, and saying please and thank you, and carrying on the really stupid family tradition of helping people because they need help, even if they've shot you in the back before."

There is a short pause, broken by the scuffle of boots in snow. "Then you are doing an admirable job," Izuna tells him in a rather faraway voice. "Especially on the last one."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm expecting to be deified any day now," Tobirama mutters, and waves to the sentry who's just spotted them to stand down. "By the way, once you give Hashirama the location, you're staying put at our camp. We can get you medical attention there. It'd be sheer murder to allow you to travel back through this snow in the state you're in."

Another weak smile flashes across Izuna's face. "True," he agrees. "It would be - much more convenient - to have me close at hand for the murdering part - if it turns out that what I've told you isn't true. Wouldn't you agree, Tobi?"

"I'm sure you understand," Tobirama says again.

Once again, the hoarse sound of laughter rattles gently in Izuna's throat. "Oh, believe me, Tobi, I do."

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